Feeling of Abandon
by myStiCaLYia
Summary: It's almost Harry's birthday, and Ginny spends days preparing a special present for him. Will he like it?


Abandoned

"It's almost Harry's birthday." Hermione spoke up one day while we were eating lunch.

"Harry's birthday?" I repeated, forking beef into my mouth. "Hermione, Harry's birthday is in July. It's only June."

"Yes, I know," Hermione said. "But it's still pretty close, and I hate to think of Harry always having to spend his birthdays with the Dursleys."

"Well, I do too, but what are you getting at?"

"I think we should throw Harry a surprise party. You know, just before we leave for the summer. You know Harry would be really bummed about having to spend all July with the Dursleys, and he wouldn't be able to go to your place until August. So we should celebrate."

"Hm…" I looked thoughtfully across the table at Harry, who was eating his dessert with Ron, talking about Quidditch and laughing. It _would_ be awesome to be able to do something good for Harry for once. I mean, he didn't even have a proper home to go to!

I nodded, "Sure. I'll help any way I can."

Hermione flashed me a smile. "Thank, Gin! We'll make this the best party Harry's ever had!"

"I bet this will be the _only_ party Harry's ever had." I smiled too, thinking of Harry's face when he sees the party.

"Who should we invite?" Hermione asked, pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill from her bag. "Let's start making a list."

"Okay. I think we should invite everyone in Gryffindor Tower. We can hold the party there too."

"Everyone in Gryffindor?" she repeated. "Well, okay…" she jotted down, _Everyone in Gryffindor _on the list. "Anyone else?"

I didn't answer her. I was looking over at Harry. He was bent over his cake, still talking animatedly to Ron. I've never seen him so happy. Not since Sirius died.

"When's the party going to be, Hermione?" I asked. She looked down in her organizer. "Hm…how does June 13 sound? That's the last day of the exams, and Harry could do with a bit cheering up."

"The thirteenth sounds great." I smiled a bit, then wolfed down the rest of my lunch and ran out of the Great Hall as soon as I could. I ran straight to the school news bulletin board, running my finger down the list of news and dates.

_Quidditch Interhouse Cup: 8th June_

_Exams: 6th June – 13th June_

_Hogsmeade Weekend Trip: 10th June_

_Cedric Diggory Memorial Hour: 23rd June_

There! I jotted down the date of the Hogsmeade weekend trip, stuffed the piece of parchment in my robe pocket, and positively skipped off to class.

I was going to buy Harry the best birthday gift _ever_!

No, I was not still infatuated with him. I still thought him the bravest person I knew, but I was not as infatuated. I loved him still, I always will, but that silly schoolgirl crush was gone. It'd gone long ago. 

It was June 3rd. The party would be in ten days. I had ten days to get ready. Did I have enough time? If I wanted to buy the best present for Harry, I'd better start now. All during Charms, I couldn't keep my concentration on Flitwick. My mind kept wondering over to Harry, who was sitting in Divinations right now, and I kept thinking about his present. What did he need? What did he _want_?

Well, that one's pretty easy. Harry probably wants what most sixteen-year-old guys want the most: A gorgeous girl kissing him and snaking her arms around his neck. I sighed. That was what Ron had said he wanted for _his_ birthday. I had seen Hermione frown horribly when she heard. Well, I was no gorgeous girl, so that idea was out. 

Books? Harry read, but he wasn't so obsessed with it like Hermione that he would want a book for his birthday. I chucked that out mentally.

Clothing? School supplies? 

It's hopeless! 

I would never be able to buy him a fabulous present! I didn't even know what he wanted!

I endured the rest of class, listening to Flitwick and waving my wand around carelessly. Did Harry need a new wand?

No.

New broom?

Too expensive. 

New pet?

No cheaper than the broom.

Arruggh! 

_What did he want?!_

I wondered my way into the Great Hall for dinner, having practically flown my way around my other three classes. 

I sat down with a thump at my seat, taking a bowl of stew from Ron, who passed it to me. "Ready for Snape tomorrow, Harry?"

Harry winced. "Am I ever ready?"

Ron and Hermione laughed. 

Jealousy flooded me.

I wanted to laugh with them, but I never really felt welcomed. It always seemed like I was just a little kid, tagging along after her big brother and his friends, always trying to peek in on what they were doing and secretly crushing on his best friend. Seemed like I was a fourth oar or something. I looked wistfully at Harry sitting next to Hermione, who was passing him vegetables, and pointing out mistakes on his Potions homework. I would never have a chance to do that.

A thought suddenly struck my head. 

Harry loved woven things. He liked to watch Hermione knit. Hermione was an awful knitter, but she had a way of knitting so that it was actually amusing to watch. Harry liked sitting with Ron and watching her knit at night. I've seen them.

I can't knit to save my life, but I could do something else. 

I gobbled down my dinner, then bolted for the door, running back to my dormitory.

Once I was there, I closed the door tight, squatted down on all fours, and pulled out a small chest from under my bed. I opened it, whispering the secret password that only I knew.

This chest held my most prized possessions. That included my money, the few jewellery I owned, my diary (normal one, mind you), a few embroideries that were precious to me, and a small box of embroidery thread. I had gotten the thread from my great-aunt Ella, who died two years ago. She was a skilled needlewoman, and had given me some of her best embroidery threads. I had never used them, but kept them as a keepsake in her memory. Aunt Ella loved me, and I loved her, and these threads are my life.

I carefully extracted several colours that I knew Harry would love. I had a class in ten minutes' time, but I could still start working. 

Setting down on my bed, I spread out the threads in front of me, after locking my chest firmly and pushing it back under the bed, and I studied them. Then, slowly, I began to weave.

I loved weaving. I could weave rugs, braids, and yarn better than anyone. I'm not bragging, even Mum said I could weave better than anyone she's ever seen.

I intended to make Harry a woven bookmark. I knew he loved reading, so instead of giving him a book, I'll weave him a bookmark. Plus something else that I'll have to buy.

I didn't have time to weave much, because just then, my dorm-mates showed up, chattering away noisily and changing into their pyjamas for a little more talk before bed. I sat down on my bed and listened to them talk, my mind still in that trunk with Harry's bookmark.

"Did you hear? Hermione Granger's throwing Harry a birthday party!" One girl, Maryanne, squealed. "Oh, it's going to be _so_ fun! I wonder if we could have dancing, it'd be lovely to dance with Harry!"

"Tell me about it!" Linda said eagerly, he'd be all flushed and surprised, I could just picture him! Ginny, what are you getting him?"

I smiled tightly. I hated these girls. "I don't really know yet." Like I'd be moronic enough to tell them.

"You better hurry, it's in ten days." Paula said snootily. "_I'm _getting him a new comforter."

"A comforter?" Linda repeated sceptically. "Would Harry want that?"

"Of course he would."

My heart sank. Paula's family had as much money as Malfoy's; her sister was Pansy bloody Parkinson.

Whatever she gave Harry, I won't be able to afford in three and a half lifetimes.

"I'm going to bed." I announced, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice. I hastily changed into my pyjamas, then burrowed down into my blankets and pulled the curtains shut around my four poster bed.

"What a loser. Just because she can't afford to give Harry a good birthday present, she has to take it out on us." I heard Paula say to the others.

Fighting the urge to cry miserably, I forced myself to think of Harry's unwoven bookmark in my trunk. I was trying to work out a pattern he'd like, and then adding in a few spells to make it more interesting…

I only had ten days. Weaving is not my strongest area, so it'd take a lot of work and a lot of planning and weaving to get it all done by the thirteenth.

What if Harry didn't like my present?

I had a sudden horrible vision of me arriving to the party carrying the bookmark for him…him opening it…staring at it in disgust…glancing up at me…smirking…_hating_ it…

I let out a small groan and a tear sneaked out. 

I wanted so desperately to win his love…to show him mine…

I cried myself to sleep that night.

*

The next couple of days passed by in a blur. In the mornings, I would wake up hours before anybody else did, eat a hurried breakfast from the food I stole from the kitchens, and then run back up to my dormitory quietly and try to weave Harry's bookmark by the dim light. I only got an hour before the others started to wake. 

I finished all my homework right in class, then bolted back up to my room to continue weaving. The bookmark was about seven centimetres wide and eleven centimetres long. It was hard work, considering that I'm awful slow that these things and I wanted everything to be perfectly in shape.

I heard Ron telling Hermione that 'There's something wrong with Ginny. I think she's hiding something. She's been avoiding us lately.'

I heard Hermione say, 'Nah, you're just imagining things. She's not the sort to hide anything from us.'

How wrong she was.

Several times while I was painstakingly wounding threads amongst threads and tying tiny knots, tears slipped out of my eyes. I would be weaving, but also thinking of how happy it would make Harry. On the other hand, I would also be thinking what I'd do if he hated it.

Probably burst into tears and bury myself alive.

I often pretended to have fallen asleep at night, only to get up quietly and steal downstairs to the common room, where I would sit by the dying fire and weave some more.

I began to feel frustrated when we approached the eighth of June, and my bookmark wasn't half done yet. Several times a day I wanted to cry, thinking of the unfinished present.

I began to get up earlier and stay up later than usual, trying frantically to finish the weaving but not wanting to ruin the delicacy and precision.

On June twelve, one day before the party, when everybody but Harry was chattering happily about the party the next day, I was hurrying like mad to finish the bookmark. I had added in extra spells to make it tell the reader what line they were at, and to summarize the whole story up to where they stopped. Now I was just trying to finish the remain bit of weaving and knot-tying.

It was past two in the morning, but I was still sitting by the fire, threads flying against my fingers.

I was almost done when—

"Ginny?"

A groggy voice interrupted my rhythmic counting of the threads.

I looked up and was startled to see a pair of emerald eyes staring at me sleepily. "Harry?"

"Yuh…what are you doing down here? It's almost three." He rubbed his eyes adorably. 

I swallowed. "Um…I'm…nothing."

"What's that?" he peered closer, his tousled hair making him appear more gruntled than ever.

I tried to stuff the bookmark away behind me, but he'd stepped around and was now sitting cross-legged in front of me. 

"Can I see?"

"No!" I answered a little too quickly. He looked hurt, but smiled nonetheless.

"You've been avoiding us, Ginny…why?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I don't know…you guys never liked to have me with you." I struggled to cover the hurt in my voice.

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is."

Harry fell silent. I wished he could go away so that I could finish his present before I pass out from fatigue. 

"You look awfully tired lately, Gin. What _is_ that thing you were bending over? Can't I take a peek? I won't laugh." Harry looked at me pleadingly. 

"No." I couldn't let him see it. Not before it was finished!

"Oh, come on! Show me?" He winked, running a hand through his hair.

"No."

"Who's it for?"

I almost slipped and said 'you', but I caught myself just in time. "Um…nobody."

"Right."

"Really!"

"Okay."

"Harry!" I let out a tired giggle. Harry laughed too. Suddenly, before I knew it, he'd wrenched the unfinished bookmark right out of my hand and was examining it.

I stopped laughing and terror filled within me. 

_He's going to hate it! He's going to laugh!_

"This looks—"

I shut my eyes.

"—really good!" he cried. "This is so pretty! You made it?"

I opened my eyes slowly and nodded, my throat dry.

"It's beautiful!" he breathed, looking closer at it. He sniffed it, "It smells nice."

It did?

I never once put any sort of scent charm on it…nor had I bathed it in perfume…

"It smells like you." Harry said, a slight flush in his cheeks.

Harry said it smelled nice! And then he said it smelled like me! I almost jumped up and did a victory dance.

He loved it!

"Who's it for?" he asked again, about to hand it back. I swallowed nervously. "You."

"Huh?" he blanked. "For…me?"

"Yeah…" I unstuck my tongue from the roof of my mouth and continued, "For your birthday."

"But…my birthday isn't for another month." He looked kind of confused.

"I…wanted to give you something nice." I said stupidly. 

"Is this why you've been ignoring us? To work on it?" He asked. I nodded mutely. 

Harry's handsome face cracked into a wide smile.

"Thanks, Ginny." He leaned over and gave me a hug, wrapping his arms around me. 

I felt so happy I could shout with glee.

Harry sniffed the bookmark again. "It really smells like you. Is it a bookmark?"

I nodded, my old habit of blushing returning full force.

"It's excellent!" he said enthusiastically. Harry stood up and offered me a hand. "Let's go to bed."

I nodded again, still flushing a deep red.

Harry saw me to the door of my dormitory. 

"Well…good night." I said awkwardly.

"Good night." Harry replied, still holding his bookmark. He smiled at me again, "And Ginny…thanks again."

"You're very welcome." I mumbled to the floor, not daring to look up at him. 

When I did, I saw that he was already going up the staircase to his own dormitory.

He was still smelling the bookmark and smiling to himself.

END

*

A/N: Did you like?


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